


Six people who thought the Kirk brothers were cute before deciding, actually, they were creepy as hell

by jenny_wren



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:33:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_wren/pseuds/jenny_wren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six people who thought the Kirk brothers were cute before deciding, actually, they were creepy as hell. And the one who always knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Henrietta Balham (nee Kirk)

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme fill: Sam isn't the coward, weak boy who (apparently) ran away and gave up his little brother. He is a genius on his own, over-protective of his brother since Jim is born and Sam realized Mommy was too fuc*ed up to take care of him. When the boys are 16 and 11, step-father tries to "molest" Jim - Sam reacts by obtaining a weapon and shooting him right between the eyes.
> 
> Tarsus IV ensues - their aunt and oncle there are freaked out by their "unnatural" closeness, Kodos is *fascinated* (beautiful, super-smart, deadly). The Kirk brothers lead the Children's rebelion and do everything to survive the food's shortage (= killing Kodos supporters and *eating* them?)
> 
> When Starfleet arrives, the brothers and the other kids are brely better than a pack of wolfes.  
> Bonus for tentaives of psychological treatments and social readaptaion (completely unsuccessful).  
> Sam manages to get the custody of his brother, and they settle in San Francisco, going to Startfleet high school and uni, and then to the Academy (Sam in sciences, jim in commandement/captaincy). They are still awkwardly close, so plenty of rumors about them. Sam's over-protectiveness turns possessive and they start having a relationship - deciding that, anyway, each is the most important person in the universe for the other, so they might as well have sex, too ( plus Jim is super cute)
> 
> They save the world from the Narada, and conquest the galaxy together.
> 
> Bonus for darkish and angsty developpements : bad gossips about the weird Kirks brothers (what they did on Tarsus, the UST), Winona freaked out, other sex-partners trying to understand why Jim/Sam are never satisfied with them..

Henrietta Balham (nee Kirk)

Hetty looked anxiously at her nephews.

“Everything packed, boys?”

“Yes Aunt Hetty,” they chorused together like well programmed robots. Hetty shook her head, once she had thought their uncanny ability to speak in sync was an adorable symbol of their closeness, now it made her skin crawl.

“So you’re ready to go?”

“Yes Aunt Hetty.” Sam had Jimmy’s bag in one hand, his own bag over his shoulder and his free arm wrapped firmly around Jimmy. Jimmy was clutching a small backpack in one hand, his brother’s t-shirt in the other. Both their faces were solemn and set.

Hetty felt she should say something else. She wanted to find some way to appease her guilty awareness that, despite the circumstances, she was glad they would no longer be her problem.

Winona’s actions six months ago made sudden, painful sense.

 

Hetty had been shocked when her sister in law called, half-hysterical because Sam had shot their step-father trying to protect Jimmy. She hadn't hesitated to promise to take them in, regardless of the fact her only contact with them for years had been a copy of their school photos. She had them tacked up by the backstairs, a long procession of photos showing them growing from chubby toddlers to cute little boys. Sam, four years ahead of his baby brother, already a skinny teenager with George’s eyes, stared cagily out of the latest frame.

So yes, Hetty had happily accepted the care of George’s boys. She’d quite agreed they needed a fresh start, and she’d never approved of that layabout Winona had chosen to marry, didn't think he measured up to George in any way, shape or form.

Her shock had tipped into unease when the news vids caught up with Winona’s emergency comm and she discovered Sam had in fact shot his stepfather _dead_. 

Though she soon decided that there was nothing to be concerned about. Sam had, after all, being trying to defend his little brother. It was perfectly understandable given the situation. Her dear Colin had awkwardly asked then if she was sure she knew what she was taking on, but Hetty had overborne her husband’s misgivings. Their stepfather been trying to molest Jimmy, it was a tragedy for Sam that Sam had accidentally killed him, but nobody was going to miss the man.

In her heart of hearts Hetty thought it made them even more adorable. She imagined Sam loading one of George’s antique pistols, standing between his brother and their attacker, the gun going off and the monster falling dead as two frightened boys clung together for comfort. She just wanted to wrap her arms around them both and hold them safe. 

Of course Winona wasn't the slightest bit of use, that woman had been too busy gadding about with Starfleet to take proper care of George’s boys and now, when her chickens had come home to roost, she was too ‘stressed’ to do anything useful. Winona should trying bringing up six children on the sparse resources allotted to a colony agronomist. Hetty didn't have time to get ‘stressed’.

Still at least Winona had finally done the right thing at last and allowed the Kirk family to take charge of George’s sons. With six children of her own, there wasn't anything you could tell Hetty about looking after children; she’d soon have those poor boys back on their feet.

 

It hadn't worked out quite like that.

 

The boys had been like two wary, wild creatures; watching everything from behind long, tangled hair that Hetty itched to cut. She had got out the scissors once and Sam had actually snarled at her with bared teeth like an animal. 

She had tried to explain how much their father would have disliked to see their hair in such a state but it was like she was talking about some distant, forgotten figure who was completely irrelevant to them.

Sometimes it seemed like the entire rest of the world was irrelevant to them. Sam clutched Jimmy close, suspicious of everything that moved and fiercely protective. Jimmy acted like his brother’s shadow and barely said a word that wasn't an echo of Sam. 

Hetty had told herself such behavior was to be expected after their trauma, but as weeks passed and nothing changed, their behavior started to seem less devoted and more obsessive. Eventually she’d sat Jimmy down and explained to him that his monstrous step-father was dead and he no longer had to rely on Sam, that he was safe with family.

Jimmy had grinned at her, blue eyes glowing angelically behind his mess of hair. “Oh I’m not worried about the step-dad. I know he’s dead. Sam shot him for me.”

That wouldn't have been quite how Hetty would have chosen to phrase it, but she pressed on after the main issue.

“So what are you worried about then?”

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“You can tell me. I'm family,” she encouraged.

“I’m worried they’re going to take Sam away.”

“Why would they take Sam away?”

The door banged and Sam himself strode into the room. He smirked at her and Hetty shivered. There was something wrong with Sam. His eyes were full of secrets, too adult, too knowing, too angry.

He slinked across the room like a cat stalking his prey. 

“Samgee,” called Jimmy, holding out his arms, full of innocent affection.

“Jaytee.” Sam sat down in the armchair beside his brother as Jimmy wriggled to make room for him. They ended up with Jimmy sitting on Sam’s lap, Sam’s hand on his hip. Jimmy sighed and tucked his head in against his brother’s chest, cuddling further into the possessive grip.

Hetty’s mouth twitched disapprovingly.

“You were saying Aunt Hetty?” said Sam, his voice just on the edge of insolent.

“Why would they take you away?” she demanded, determined not to be intimidated by her teenage nephew.

“Cause I shot the step-dad right between his piggy eyes.”

“Step-dad didn't squeal though.”

Hetty stared at her younger nephew, if anything Jimmy sounded _disappointed_ about that.

“And the cops figured that showed pre-meditation,” Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“Duh,” said Jimmy scornfully. “As if Sam would ever shoot anybody by accident.”

“You shot your step-father on purpose?” asked Hetty faintly.

“Duh,” they said together.

Jimmy turned his head and looked directly at her, “I’m Sam’s. Sam’s mine. Not his. Never his.”

“My Jaytee,” said Sam, curling his hand around his brother’ throat to press his head back against his shoulder.

“Samgee,” Jimmy echoed lovingly, relaxing into his brother.

“They wanted to put me in a home for troubled youth or some such junk.”

“My Samgee.” There was a rough growl in Jimmy’s voice and his knuckles went white as he clung to his brother’s t-shirt.

Sam chuckled affectionately, “Uh-huh, all yours.” When he looked up at Hetty the affection was still scrawled across his face and she had to stifle a gasp to see him looking so young and alive. When he smiled it was soft and gentle,

“So Jimmy pitched a fit, he screamed and cried and yelled, told them all about how the step-dad was drunk, was coming after us, how scared we were, how it was an accident until they decided even if they didn't believe it, it would be better to hush things up.” Sam’s smile hardened into something vicious and cynical. “Us being the children of the heroic George Kirk and all.”

“So you did shoot him by accident?” Hetty asked hopefully.

“Now Aunt Hetty, aint you always saying how we’re family, don’t you want to hear the truth?” Sam was smirking again, mean and hard. Hetty didn't want the truth at all, she wanted a nice comforting lie, she wanted to forget this whole conversation. Sam continued implacably,

“We waited until he was passed out drunk and then I loaded the pistol. I shoved the barrel right between his eyes,” Sam tapped the point just above the bridge of his nose, “and I pulled the trigger.”

“It was a lot nosier without ear protectors on,” said Jimmy reflectively.

“But, but, that’s murder,” gasped Hetty, revolted at the idea of such a cold-blooded act.

“So it would have been better if he’d be coming at us roaring like a bull, fists swinging.”

“Yes,” said Hetty fervently. 

“Why?” asked Jimmy, he seemed honestly puzzled, “Sam might have gotten hurt. I didn't want that.”

“But why didn't you think to tell anyone?” she asked desperately

“Not like they listened before,” said Sam shrugging his shoulders. “And we didn't even have any evidence cause Jimmy bit him and ran as soon as the step-dad groped his ass. Just like I told him too.”

“I’ma good boy,” said Jimmy.

“My good boy,” said Sam, dropping a kiss on Jimmy’s forehead. Jimmy glowed with happiness.

Hetty gaped at them. There was a lot she wanted to say, but she couldn't get her thoughts into order.

“And as you’re family Aunt Hetty you'll understand when I tell you, if anyone else tries to take Jimmy away from me, I wouldn't react very well.” Sam grinned at her, dark and disturbing.

Hetty abruptly closed her mouth, unable to keep pretending she wasn't scared of her oldest nephew and what he might do.

“That’s what I thought,” said Sam. “Come on Jimmy, we’ve got places to be.”

Jimmy followed Sam obediently, but after his brother left the room, he ran back to Hetty.

“Aunt Hetty?” he patted her on the shoulder.

“Yes Jimmy,” she said weakly.

“Aunt Hetty, you shouldn’t worry about Sam too much.”

“No?”

“No. Cause if they took Sam away, _I_ ’d be the one still here.” 

Jimmy beamed at her then, his blue, blue eyes wide and shinning and utterly devoid of human sympathy.

Hetty swallowed, the click of her throat loud in the oppressive silence.

“I understand Jimmy. You don’t have to worry.”

His smile softened into something almost sane, and he gave her a quick nod before racing away after his brother.

 

So Hetty couldn’t help but be glad circumstances were taking the two boys away from her. She had never told anyone about their conversation, not even Colin, and when the opportunity came up, she shipped her own children off to Colin’s parents on Velhelm II to get them away from their cousins.

Sam had smirked, but neither he nor Jimmy had said anything.

Once the children were safely away, Hetty had started working on getting Winona to take responsibly for her sons again. They were Winona’s boys after all, she could deal with them. Hetty didn’t much care where they went, but she did tell Winona that she thought they should go together.

Winona sent her an emergency comm back telling her under no circumstances whatsoever to try and split up the boys.

Hetty actually rolled her eyes when she received it. Did Winona honestly think she was too stupid not to have worked that out by now?

Then of course the whole colony slipped over the edge into chaos as the crops rotted in the fields.

And now the boys were being taken away. 

Hetty truly wished she could be sorry about that. Guiltily, she warned them,

“You will be careful.” They’d already executed all the criminals held in the colony cells, there wasn’t enough food to waste on the undeserving. She didn’t want to think about the boys being declared undeserving but it seemed all too likely if anyone else realized what she had.

“Goodbye Aunt Hetty,” said Sam, “I’m sorry. You weren’t so bad.”

Again as they walked away, Jimmy came running back to pat at her arm,

“We really are sorry, Aunt Hetty. But there are too many guards, if I asked Sam to do something he might get hurt.” Jimmy’s eyes were wide, as if it was the very worst thing he could imagine.

“It’s okay Jimmy,” she said, trying not to squirm away from his touch. “You run along now.”

“Okay Aunt Hetty.” He sped back to his brother’s side and Sam’s arm curled around him, clamping Jimmy to his side. Hetty watched them walk away, so close they were almost one person.

Then she resolutely turned away. They weren’t her concern anymore. She had enough to worry about with just her and Colin. She made sure to stay close to her husband as they entered the stadium to hear Kodos explain how the colony was going to be saved.


	2. Johnno Johnstone

Johnno Johnstone

Johnno eyed up the nervous clusters of white-faced teenagers huddled close to the floor as if they could pull the floorboards up over themselves and hide. The lecturer was still droning on about how the young people would be honed down to the very best of the best and form a new, stronger society that would arise from the ashes of the old.

He was honestly surprised the lecturer could keep spouting all that guff with a straight face but Kodos honestly seemed to believe this was a training facility that would allow them to uncover the strongest, most worthy young men and women to lead his new utopia.

As far as Johnno was concerned, he and his crew were being allowed to amuse themselves as a reward for their hard work. And being in the slaughter squad was harder work than you‘d have thought. He had signed up as Kodos’ muscle with the rest of the mining crew because he wasn’t interested in dying so others could live, because it sounded more interesting than grubbing in Earth for the rest of his contract and because, well, what red-blooded man hadn’t had Rambo fantasies of opening up with a machine gun?

Proper bullets they’d had too, phasers were too prissy for the job of gunning down half the population in one go. The noise Johnno had expected, although it was louder and more echoey than in the interactive vids. The smell though, nothing had prepared him for the smell; blood and shit and terror so thick it still coated the back of his tongue like a foretaste of hell.

So yeah, Johnno figured he was due a little relaxation, and he studied the kids eagerly as he wondered who to pick first. There was a sweet little blonde girl near the front, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she shivered. She looked like she could do with warming up, but she was on her own. Johnno was more interested in the groups.

On his second sweep of the room, he spotted them.

“Aw, how cute is that,” he grinned hungrily, they were just perfect, so sugary sweet he felt sick just looking at them.

The elder brother was sitting with his back to wall, his knees raised protectively to shield the younger brother who was curled up against his chest. The younger brother’s eyes were closed and he looked dreamily content as he sucked his thumb, safe in his brother’s embrace.

Then he looked a bit closer and realized the younger boy was actually sucking on his brother’s thumb. 

Johnno took an instinctive step backwards, one hand coming up to shield himself from the uncanny. Then he shook some sense into himself. He was imagining things. All the kids in the room were acting a little strange. These two were just even more disgustingly cutesy than he’d realized.

It was going to be fun tearing them apart.

Finally Kodos ran down, and they were allowed to get work. Johnno hitched himself up and moved in on his targets.

Squatting heavily down beside them, he shoved his bulk forward into their space. 

“Hello boys.”

The older one’s eyes were lowered as he stared down, seemingly intent on his brother’s golden hair. He shuddered as Johnno’s breath gusted over his ear.

“I’m Johnno,” he grinned toothily.

With a sigh, the older brother said, “I’m Sam, this is Jimmy.”

“Hello Sammy boy.” Johnno clapped one hand solidly on the boy’s shoulder. Sam sighed again and lifted his head, his lips twisting into a tired smile.

Johnno’s face screwed up with disgust. Sam’s face had the worn, used stare of the whores who hung around the mining camps. That wasn’t what Johnno had been looking for, he could get that anywhere. He’d wanted to take the opportunity to grab himself something young and tender.

Then Sam’s tongue flicked out to trace his lips, and Johnno reconsidered. Sam was pretty, after all, with fine features and soft, plush lips - and experience was a plus when it came to blow jobs.

“What say you and me go get acquainted, Sammy boy.”

Sam nodded wearily and started to push to his feet, dislodging his brother. Jimmy’s eyes flew open and they stared up at Johnno, blue bright and fierce. For a second it was like looking at the burning sky and Johnno trembled for the dark safety of below ground.

Then Jimmy’s lashes fluttered shut and he giggled.

“I wanna go. Pick me, not Sam. I wanna go. It isn’t fair. Sam gets to do all the cool stuff. I wanna go.” He giggled again and blinked appealing up at Johnno. His blue eyes had gone little boy-stupid and Johnno took a deep steadying breath as the sense of vertigo fell away.

He still hated the pathetic little fool for making him feel like that though, and he was more than happy with idea of dragging Jimmy off and making him regret it.

“Jimmy,” Sam scolded.

Jimmy shoved him. “I wanna go.”

“Alright fine, you go,” Sam shoved him back.

“Deal,” said Johnno, and grabbed Jimmy’s arm hauling him to his feet. “Last chance to change your mind Sammy.”

Sam looked guilty, but he said, “Jimmy wants to go.” And shoved his brother again.

Johnno grinned as Sam handed his brother over. “Fine by me.” He looked across the room at Mack, who’d picked the blonde girl, “Hey,” he called, “I’m going to take Jimmy here outside for a little one on one tuition.”

Mack laughed.

“Are there sweets?” asked Jimmy, as he trotted along at Johnno’s side.

Johnno rubbed his large hand over that golden head of hair. “I tell you what Jimmy, you be good to me, and I’ll be good to you.”

“I’m a good boy,” Jimmy affirmed. He smiled angelically at Johnno, golden hair, flushed pink skin and baby blue eyes. He was so innocent he glowed.

A faint unease flickered through Johnno as he remembered long ago lectures in a dusty church on a nothing planet. Something about the great and terrible wrath of the pure.

But Johnno’d scoured away all his memories of long ago with blood and alcohol, and he angrily stamped down on these returning shadows. Tightening his grip on Jimmy’s wrist, he led him out the hall into the corridor. A string of doors ran along one wall, and he tried the nearest one, which opened into a cubbyhole of an office. Johnno swept the administrative crap off, grabbed Jimmy up and shoved him down to sit on the desk. Still gripping Jimmy’s arms, Johnno took a moment to admire his prey.

Jimmy finally seemed to sense something was wrong, his gaze dropped and his legs started to curl in towards his body protectively.

Johnno laughed indulgently. The incandescent blue eyes narrowed, Jimmy’s foot lashed out and slammed straight into Johnno’s balls.

Everything dropped away in a flash of bright white pain. His eyes squeezed shut as agony burnt through him, punching all the air out of him. Still pain-blind, Johnno felt his legs crumble and he collapsed on the floor.

With one hand he cupped his burning cock and balls, the other grasped after Jimmy. He was going to take that kid apart.

He’d managed to mostly regain control over his seizing body, when a finer pain abruptly lanced through his back. He swiped after, but it darted away to slice through his ribs. Wallowing like a landed whale, Johnno managed to heave over onto his uninjured side and stare at his attacker.

It took him a moment to recognize fragile, pretty Sam under the brutal glare.

“Sam,” called Jimmy

“Jaytee,” the crackling anger in his voice was like another presence in the room. “What were you thinking? Going off with him like that. I should beat your ass for you,” Sam’s voice dropped and deepened on the last words.

“Sam!”

“I don’t care.”

Sam stalked across the room. Jimmy didn’t seem concerned about the threat of a beating though, he reached out towards his brother and Sam stepped in close as Jimmy latched on with both arms and legs. Sam nuzzled his nose into his brother’s hair.

“What if they’d stopped me leaving the hall? I was the one with the knife, you should have let me handle it.”

“My Samgee.”

“Yes, but-”

“Mine,” growled Jim. He raised his chin to look over his brother’s shoulder and his blue eyes lasered in on Johnno. Johnno whimpered under their incinerating intensity. Guilt rose up to choke him and he gave up his feeble attempts to move.

“Okay, okay,” Sam pawed soothingly at his brother. “We should go.”

“He’s not dead.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, far too casual for someone discussing Johnno’s life, “I stabbed where the book said, I think anyway. Book was probably lying about stabbing someone in the kidneys to kill them instantly.”

“Books lie all the time,” agreed Jimmy, “it’s no fair.”

“Everybody lies all the time.”

“Not you,” said Jimmy worshipfully. He snuggled into his brother’s side.

“I said nobody’d ever touch you.”

“He didn’t. Just my wrist and he put his nasty, sweaty hand in my hair,” Jimmy pouted.

Sam inspected his brother’s wrist, then lapped at bruising skin with thick, animal strokes his tongue.

Jimmy purred under the attention. “All clean,” he said happily.

Sam sniffed at his brother’s hair, then rubbed his cheek against it.

“Aunt Hetty’s dead, isn’t she?” asked Jim.

Sam whimpered in agreement.

Although none of the children were supposed to know their parents had been condemned to death, Johnno wasn’t surprised these two knew. The image of the slaughter room flashed vividly before his eyes, with it came the horror, shame and remorse he’d stamped down before.

He’d been wrong earlier, Jimmy wasn’t innocent, he was guilty, guiltier than Sam, guilty as sin. Jimmy was sin, his bright beauty a trap for the wicked and Johnno had fallen.

“That’s mean,” said Jimmy. “Can we make them sorry.”

“If you want,” said Sam indifferently. “But we should go. Before they catch on. They’ll start thinking again soon. They’re too busy enjoying themselves at the moment.”

Jimmy‘s gaze sharpened, “Can we make them sorry now?”

Sam tilted his head as he thought about it, “I guess now’s as good a time as any.”

“Goody.”

“We should go see how many of them are still in the main hall.”

“Okay.” 

Reluctantly Jimmy released his hold, Sam stepped back and offered him his hand to help him slither down from the table. Still holding hands they started to walk from the room.

Abruptly Jimmy pulled away and ran back to Johnno.

“Sorry about this,” he said, then he tilted his head. “Wait, no I’m not. We need the knife.” And without another word, he yanked the knife out from between Johnno’s ribs.

The sharp pain was quickly overshadowed by the heavy weight of taking another breath. Johnno started to wheeze for air that wasn’t there.

“Huh,” said Jimmy, “looks like the books weren’t lying about a sucking chest wound.”

“Jaytee!”

“He wanted to hurt you,” said Jimmy, utterly unapologetic. His blue eyes bored into Johnno seeing every unworthy deed and sinful thought. With his shaking, palsied arm, Johnno made a futile attempt to cross himself.

Jimmy threw back his head and laughed out loud, so beautiful it hurt to look at him.

Johnno licked his bloody lips, “bright son of morning,” he whispered soundlessly with his last breath and slipped away into the eternal darkness.

Kodos was doomed, the devil had come to claim his own.


	3. Kodos the Savior (known to history as the Executioner

Kodos the Savior (known to history as the Executioner)

Kodos had admired the Kirk brothers from the first moment he had seen the pictures attached to their records. Beautiful, smart as whips, the older already a killer. They were just what he was looking for to assist him in his empire-building.

Kodos was determined to take the opportunity presented by the fungus to redesign society as it should be. He had already removed the undesirable elements from the colony, now he would create his new empire and the Kirk brothers would be at the forefront.

His plans suffered a slight check when the two boys absconded from the training facility with the majority of their class, but Kodos saw such actions merely as proof of their suitability for the roles as his Lieutenants.

Catching them again had proved harder than expected, but now weeks of anticipation were over. The older Kirk boy had been captured when he and his followers tried to raid the ammunition stores and now he was being brought to Kodos.

He heard the tramp of his guards’ feet, the door was thrown open and a ragged, struggling body was flung at Kodos’ feet.

“Sir,” saluted the two guards.

Kodos stared down at the unprepossessing scrap of humanity.

“ _That_ is George Kirk?”

The body was scrawny, the hair a matted mess, the face bruised and muddy. Limbs bound, he struggled up from his sprawl across the floor and onto his knees. Kodos crouched down and seized his chin, forcibly turning his face for inspection. Blood dripped from a split, sneering lip. Defiance glared up from dark hazel eyes.

The boy hacked and spat. A gob of blood hit Kodos in his face. His reaction was instinctive; he slapped the boy hard, right across his smirking mouth, and sent him crashing back to the ground.

Eyes fixed on Kodos’ hand, the boy curled his legs back under himself, body poised like a cur waiting for its chance to bite back.

Kodos rubbed his hand and reminded himself that such spiritedness, when channeled correctly, would serve him well. 

“You will learn manners in time,” he said calmly.

“Sir!”

Distracted, Kodos turned back to his guards.

“Sir!” A third guard panted breathlessly into the room. “We caught the other Kirk boy trying to sneak in here. They’re bringing him up now.”

“Ahh,” said Kodos happily. “I think Mr Kirk here is about to learn some manners very quickly.” He patted the boy’s shoulder, and was forced to snatch his hand away quickly when the boy’s teeth snapped together.

“We got a couple of bullwhips about the place, sir,” offered one of his guards.

He snorted disdainfully, “Such measures will not be necessary. These are children, not animals.”

The boy growled low in his throat.

Kodos twitched, and told himself he was overacting. These were the children on which he would build a new Empire, some difficulties were to be expected, but enlightened self-interest would naturally prevail.

“Here they come, sir.”

Two guards strode in the room, half-carrying the younger Kirk boy, James, who hung limp and heavy in their arms.

The boy on the floor’s attention switched from Kodos to his brother.

“Sir,” saluted the guards. They kicked the James’ legs out from under him so that he knelt before Kodos. As soon as the guards released him, he scuttled across the floor on his hands and knees to press close to his brother.

James blinked at Kodos a couple of times, then said, his voice high and childishly-defiant, “Leave Sam alone.”

“James, you don’t mind if I call you James, do you? Good. James I can assure you I have no intention of hurting you or George.”

Both boys hissed at him.

“You will be the cornerstones of my new empire. I accept that it will take time for you to understand but you will find me a generous master and your rewards will be great.

“We will begin with something simple. James, you may release your brother from his bonds, and then you will accompany me to the function room.”

“Sir! Are you sure that’s wise?”

Kodos patted the phaser belted at his waist. “I have all the leverage I need.” With both boys in the same place he had no concerns, for neither would risk the other.

James’ nimble fingers quickly worked George loose and, clinging tightly to each other, they followed him into the function room.

Twin breathy gasps at the display before them made Kodos smile.

“Go on,” he encouraged indulgently, “you can help yourselves.”

They circled the room warily, staring with wide eyes at the huge table laid out with a veritable banquet.

It wasn’t what it could have been before the famine, of course, but there was a huge range of carefully prepared foods in crisp white porcelain dishes. Nothing could be more different from the watery soup grudgingly doled out in the canteens. It was Kodos’ most potent weapon of persuasion. He’d had opponents break down in tears at the sight and smell.

Two boys half-wild with hunger had no resistance to the munificent display.

George curled up in one of the plush leather chairs and seized the nearest plate of food, tearing into the bread with his fingers and teeth. James actually climbed up onto the table, tucking his legs close to his chest as he blindly scooped up whatever food was near and shoveled it into his mouth.

Kodos watched the display, lip twisting at their crudeness.

“Leave us,” he ordered the guards, who left bowing respectfully. Kodos then did his best to tune out the loud sounds of mastication.

“Samgee!” called James, waving a chocolate brownie about with delight. George looked up and made swiping grab for the treat. Chortling, James snatched it back out of reach. George growled and clambered up onto the table after his brother. James wailed with fright and scrambled backwards, upsetting dishes as he went. George pounced and James shrieked.

“Now is not the time for childish squabbles,” scowled Kodos as he moved to separate them.

George roared something he didn’t recognize as a word, there was a dizzying moment of falling, then the floor slammed into Kodos’ back. Tight pressure on his chest was the boy’s full weight as he pinned him to the floor, fingers digging for his throat.

Kodos was reaching for his phaser, when something sharp bit at his hand and he yelled with pain.

James yelped his brother’s name and the weight on Kodos’ chest released abruptly as George flung himself backwards and out of reach. Clutching his throat, Kodos pushed himself up into a sitting position.

James stood upright, Kodos’ phaser steady in his hand. George loped over to join his brother. Identical mouths smirked at him.

Kodos yelled for his guards.

Twin smirks grew wider.

“They’re busy,” said James. “Somebody’s set fire to the food stores.”

“The food stores?” Terror gripped Kodos’ heart.

James shrugged one shoulder, “Sam and I wanted to for a long time. Why go to the effort of trying to call for help, when we can make you do it for us.”

“There is no way of contacting Starfleet,” he said automatically repeating the lie.

“Yeah right. ‘Dissident elements’ might have burnt the main communications station but there is no way you don’t have a backup. Not even the Federation is quite stupid enough to provide only one means of communication to a colony. We destroy your food supply, and you’ll soon be bawling for help.”

Kodos stared at them in disbelief. “You can’t destroy the food stores.”

“Course I can. It’s not rocket science.”

George made a huffing sort of chuckle.

“Well sure,” James nodded, “I could do it even if it was rocket science, but the point is, it’s not. The mine had enough explosives to level every building on the planet. And Aunt Hetty loved old-fashioned alarm clocks. I thought she’d appreciate that.”

George grinned and jabbed his brother in the ribs with his elbow.

“It is not sappy,” James defended and elbowed him back.

“You’ve blown up the food stores,” Kodos repeated blankly. Not even those who had opposed his emergency measures would ever have thought of such a thing.

“Yeah. I figured that would have everyone running around like headless chickens, and since no one appeared when you squawked, I guess it worked. And like I said, Sam and I have been wanting to do it for ages, but the others voted against it and Sam thought we should be polite.” James heaved a great sigh.

“Still,” he continued, “if we did it sooner, I couldn’t have done it now, so it all works out. And we get to kill you too so,” he gave a happy little bounce on his toes, “bonus.”

“You want to kill me?” Kodos stared at him horrified, “You can’t kill me.”

“Why not?” James shot a puzzled glance at the phaser and checked it was set correctly.

“Can’t you understand what an opportunity this is? I have my scientists cultivating the fungus. Once we understand it, no one will be able to stand in our way. We will be invincible and our empire will stretch across galaxies.”

Two faces wrinkled up with puzzlement.

“Why would we want an empire?” asked James.

“What do you want?”

“Sam.”

The older boy put his arm around his brother’s shoulders in answer.

Kodos didn’t believe that was it for a moment, “Everyone wants something.”

James tilted his head and considered for a long moment, 

“Nope,” he shook his head decisively. “Just Sam. Don’t much care if the planet burns down around us as long as he’s with me.”

“Jaytee.” The rumbling sound from his brother was more purr than voice.

Kodos had the creepy feeling they honestly meant that. He didn’t understand it at all.

“Of course I do quite want to kill you,” added James. “But I get to do that now anyway.” He straightened his stance, phaser aimed directly at Kodos. “Hasta la vista, baby.”

George gave a low disapproving growl.

“Okay, okay, I know I’m not actually going to see him later, but good riddance to bad rubbish just doesn’t have the same ring to it. And I have to say something. We didn’t say anything to the step-dad and it made Aunt Hetty mad.”

“Really,” said Kodos hurriedly, “I don’t think you’ve thought this through properly. George, surely you can recognize the manifold advantages of an alliance?”

George lent over and whispered in his brother’s ear.

James crowed with laughter. “That’s brilliant. Clever Samgee.” He turned on Kodos, blue eyes shining with child-like delight, “Goodnight, sweet prince.”

Kodos still didn’t quite believe it was happening even as his world dissolved into darkness.


	4. Dr Adele Mestel M.A. PsyD. FFCP LPC

Dr Adele Mestel M.A. PsyD. FFCP LPC

Adele rubbed her aching head with one hand and fumbled for the packet of ibuprofen in her desk drawer with the other. The list of urgent referrals for psychological assistance was getting longer not shorter in defiance of all her and her two colleagues hard work since they arrived with the emergency relief team three days ago.

Her nurse poked her head around the door, “You okay in here?” 

“Just fine,” said Adele through gritted teeth. 

“If you say so,” said her nurse agreeably, “your three o’clock is here. It’s the Kirk brothers. Here‘s the file.”

Adele raised one eyebrow as she accepted the PADD, “What? The two ‘Heroes of Tarsus’?” she made quotation marks with her fingers. “Why are they on the urgent list?”

Not that she didn’t think the boys would need counseling, the whole damn colony needed counseling, but there were only three of them. She and Dr Lavoisier and Dr Chandrasekhar had no choice, all but the most desperate cases would have to wait until the Support and Rehabilitation Unit arrived early next month.

“They were referred by Commander Boyle, he said, and I quote, ‘something about those boys just aint right.’”

Adele sighed. Her life would be so much easier if the unqualified stopped trying to make diagnoses on the basis of misunderstood pop psychology.

“Fine, send them in.” It wasn’t as if she wasn’t curious about the only two people in the doomed colony who’d managed to keep their heads and do something constructive.

She studied with interest the two boys who edged cautiously into her ratty temporary hut. They looked small and vulnerable in their borrowed, too-large clothes, the younger one tucked protectively into his brother‘s side. Their heads were shorn of hair leaving only a soft golden fuzz, like baby ducklings. It left their faces open and defenseless and emphasized their vivid eyes.

“Hello,” smiled at them, “I’m Adele, you must be George and James.”

“We’re Sam-and-Jim,” glared Jim.

“Alright,” said Adele, “it’s nice to meet you Sam and Jim. Would you like to take a seat?”

Sam glanced around the tiny room, grabbed one of the chairs and dragged it over so it stood at an angle to the desk. Then he sat down and held out one arm. Jim crossed the room and settled himself on his brother’s lap, and Sam wrapped his arm around him.

“Nice to meet you Dr Adele,” said Jim politely.

“Jim wouldn’t you be more comfortable in your own chair?” She moved around the desk to fetch him one.

“No,” said Jim baldly, abandoning politeness again. His fingers clenched around the sleeve of his brother’s t-shirt.

Adele sighed internally. The boys had been through a lot, a certain amount of clinginess was only to be expected, but she had hoped they would accept a gentle easing apart. She wouldn’t’t insist at this point though, she needed to encourage them to relax before anything else.

“So why don’t you tell me about what happened?”

Jim glanced at his brother, then turned to her with a suspicious look,

“What about what happened?”

“Well, what happened on Tarsus? I’d be interested in your opinion.”

Jim glanced at his brother again, then said, “The plants all died, everything else died. Kodos decided to kill half the colony and become a galactic overlord. We killed Kodos and burned down the food stores. One of the slightly less idiotic of Kodos’ followers decided to call the Federation for help. You all showed up.” He checked in with his brother again. Sam shrugged his shoulders and Jim echoed the motion.

“Right,” said Adele. It was an admirable précis but it showed considerable emotional detachment from the situation, which was understandable, but she needed a real reaction if she was to truly asses their emotional stability. She found it interesting that neither mentioned their rescue of fifty-six of their peers from Kodos’ prison camp, but further investigation of that topic would have to wait. For now she would work with what they had given her.

“What did you think of Kodos?”

“He wanted to hurt Sam.” Jim folded his arms and nodded his head darkly. 

Adele’ lips twitched to hear the mass-murdering psychopath so succinctly tried and convicted. 

“What about Starfleet?” There was a lot of anger in the colony against Starfleet for not doing more to prevent the tragedy. It was unjustified, but Adele understood the need to blame somebody.

Sam growled and rubbed his hand over his brother’s head.

“They made us cut our hair,” Jim glared.

She sighed; it was certainly not what she would have recommended, no matter what state their hair was in. After what they’d been through they needed a sense of control. And speaking of control,

“Jim, can Sam not speak for himself?”

“Sam speaks to _me_.”

Sam grumbled in agreement and clutched his brother closer.

Adele nodded to herself, selective mutism, just as she had suspected. Commander Boyle could consider it unnatural all he wanted but actually it was a fairly normal quirk. She had way too many people seizing what control they could through a mixture of anorexia, bulimia, and straight up self-harm, something as benign as selective mutism was just going to have to wait.

“Thank you boys. You can go now.”

They exchanged dubious glances and slowly got to their feet. They left quietly, completely in step despite Sam’s extra height. 

Adele shook her head, even with the gap in their ages, they most resembled a set of over-dependent twins. 

Which made her prescription an easy one. She grabbed the PADD and added to the notes her strong recommendation that they be sent to separate schools, and preferably have completely separate living arrangements. Over-dependency was completely understandable given what they’d been through, and with all the torn up families Adele had seen lately, their care of each other was almost adorable, but it would do them both the world of good to spend the next few years apart.

 

Having put them in the dealt with pile, she forgot about the Kirk brothers in the exhausting grind of the next few weeks. Then one night when he was slogging through updating her patient notes in preparation for the imminent arrival of the official Starfleet rescue ships, Louisa banged on the door.

“Hey,” she smiled tiredly at her loyal nurse, “what are you still doing here?”

“Nobody works alone, remember. Besides you think you’re the only one with a backlog?”

“So what’s the problem?” 

Louisa bit her lip. “I know you’ve too much on your plate.”

Adele tilted her head and made an encouraging sound. Without Louisa’s defensive gate-keeping she wouldn’t have had five minutes to catch her breath, so if Louisa thought it was important enough to disturb her…

“I’ve told him to go away before,” she glanced down at her feet, “I think maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Louisa, you’re not God. If he’s here now, he’s still alive, so we can deal with it.” Adele’s expectations had lowered drastically. Now all she wanted to do was keep as many people as possible from taking vengeance on themselves or others until her replacements arrived and she could collapse. 

“It’s nasty. The younger Kirk boy’s here. Scared, won’t look me in the eye. Wants to speak to you privately.”

“Oh? No brother?” That seemed odd to Adele. Sam hadn’t looked likely to let his brother out of his sight.

“No. And somebody’s messed up his back something awful.”

“Belt?” They’d been an outbreak of revenge beatings of those perceived to have collaborated with Kodos, it would be sadly predictable if things swung the other way.

“No. He wouldn’t let me get a good look at it, but from what I could see it was a burn, or a, a brand.”

“A brand?” she whispered as a sick suspicion curdled inside her.

Louisa nodded wide-eyed.

“You better send him in.”

Her heart went out to the hunched-up boy who crept into her office. Louisa stepped back outside and shut the door quietly.

“Jim?” she asked gently, “Louisa told me you hurt your back. May I see?”

Slowly he peeled off his t-shirt and turned around so she could see the bloody mess. Written across his shoulders in puffy, oozing burns was the word MINE.

She reached out a shaking hand but just before she could make contact he skittered away from her touch.

“It hurts,” he whimpered.

Adele quickly crossed the room and opened the door, as she expected Louisa was hovering anxiously nearby.

“Yes?” she demanded.

“It is a brand,” said Adele shortly. “Do me a favor and go get me some painkillers and antibiotics.” It wasn’t like the medical dispensary would ask any awkward questions, a good three quarters of the planet was wandering around in a medicated haze, and that included most of the crew of the emergency relief ship.

“You got it.” Louisa hurried away. Adele turned back to her patient with a heavy heart.

Jim had pulled his t-shirt back on and was sitting perched her on desk. Adele couldn’t quite explain it but something in his posture had changed. He no longer looked so hopelessly defeated.

“Jim?”

“Hey Dr Adele.”

“Are you okay?”

“Never better,” he grinned.

Behind her she heard the door open. Spinning around, she recoiled when she saw Sam Kirk standing there.

He grinned and nodded to her, flicked the lock on the door and crossed the room to drape his arm over his brother’s shoulders. Jim didn’t so much as flinch, just snuggled into his brother’s hold.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to buy herself time to figure out what was going on.

“We want to discuss a couple of things with you,” said Jim.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“We have a problem with your recommendations.”

“Recommendations?”

“You told them to take Sam away from me,” the words burst out of him as he lost his urbanity and wailed like a betrayed child.

Sam clucked his tongue soothingly and kissed his brother’s forehead.

“Jim,” she said as calmly as she could, “I know it’s hard for you to understand but you and Sam need to spend some time apart. Tarsus has been difficult for you.”

They both laughed.

“What?”

“Lady,” said Sam, and she winced at the roughness of his underused voice, “we were screwed long before Tarsus.”

And she remembered then the story of Sam shooting their step-father.

Sam’s smile grew sleepy and vindictive. 

Her skin crawled with a visceral awareness that she was alone and that Sam, although skinny, was all whipcord muscle. It would be pathetically easy for him to overpower her. 

“Now you’re getting it,” he rasped.

“Sam,” she appealed, “can’t you see that this is wrong? Look at what you’ve done to your brother’s back. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Sure.”

She wobbled a little at the confirmation of her worst suspicions. “How could you?”

“Jim’s mine.”

Jim beamed so brightly it was almost painful to look at him.

Adele took a deep breath, she had to try and make him see what he was doing, “Sam, this isn’t right. Jim is your brother, not your possession. You have no right to hurt him like that.”

“I did not!” he roared, “I-” his voice gave out completely under the force of his shout.

“Sam didn’t hurt me,” said Jim, snatching up the speaking duties. “Sam would never hurt me. We borrowed some local anesthetics from the medical unit. It doesn’t hurt at all.”

Sam turned around, tugging up his t-shirt as he did so. Adele stared. Across the small of his back she saw the word MINE, written in the same bloody burns that marred Jim’s shoulders. The ‘I’ was slightly crooked and somehow that made it worse, she couldn’t rid herself of the vivid image of Jim leaning over, blue eyes narrow with concentration, as he pressed the burning metal to his brother’s back.

“I’m Sam’s, Sam’s mine. You don’t get to take him away.”

Adele swayed as she realized it was her recommendations that had prompted this display.

“So now we’ve explained things, everything will be okay. You understand now, don’t you?”

Adele understood alright.

“We changed your recommendations, so you don’t have to do anything except stay quiet.”

“What did you change them to?” she asked, curious despite herself.

“Sam gets to keep me.”

Sam hacked and coughed, when he spoke his voice was cracked. “Custody. Nobody else is getting their hands on Jim.”

Jim hummed happily and gazed adoringly at his brother.

Adele stared at them. They were fixated on each other. They needed intensive therapy and separate _planets_. But she had a disturbing feeling even that wouldn’t work and some atavistic sense of danger was raising the hair on the back of her neck at the thought of trying.

They’d killed who knew how many guards, killed Kodos himself and hung his body out the town hall window by his intestines to demonstrate his death to the populace at large. They and the other children were said to have _eaten_ some of their victims, although nobody was in a hurry to investigate that rumor because they were all too afraid it would turn out to be true.

She’d know all those facts before but somehow they hadn’t been true until this moment as she stared at the brothers nestled together with creepily identical smiles on their faces.

Abruptly she gave up. She was exhausted, worn thin and, truthfully, scared. 

There didn’t seem to be any point in fighting them. They were easily the most together of all her patients, more together than she was herself after a month of the punishing claustrophobia of Tarsus. Sam’s claim that they were screwed long before Tarsus made an ironic sort of sense. There hadn’t been anything left for Tarsus to break, it had all been broken long ago and healed the stronger for it. But, staring at their gleaming eyes, she knew they had healed _wrong_.

“It’s okay,” Jim reassured earnestly. “We’ll be okay.”

The door rattled and Adele leapt to unlock it, desperately relieved to see Louisa. Turning back around, she saw Jim sitting alone, Sam having apparently vanished again. Louisa hurried over to Jim, handing him a bottle of water and shaking pills out of two small bottles,

“Here you go sweetie, you’ll feel better soon.”

“Thank you Miss Louisa,” said Jim, lowering his lashes and smiling shyly.

“Little flirt,” teased Louisa, “you’ll have the girls falling all over when you get back to Earth.”

There was a crash of metal and Adele jumped as she realized the door had slammed closed, and Sam Kirk was propped against it.

“Oh!” gasped Louisa, pressing one hand to her chest, “Sam! You made me jump.”

“Sorry Miss Louisa,” he grinned nastily.

Louisa laughed, “You’re as bad as your brother.”

Blinking with disbelief, Adele realized Louisa thought Sam was being charming. Somehow her nurse had completely missed the looming shadows.

“So did Dr Adele sort things out for you?”

“Oh yes.” Jim gazed at her soulfully, all big blue eyes. Adele had a disorientating moment where she wondered if she was imagining the shadows.

“Yes,” agreed Sam, “Dr Adele agreed to move us to B Camp and that we should ship out in the first wave. We’re too conspicuous here.”

“That’s probably sensible,” nodded Louisa.

“Come on Jim, let’s not take any more of the ladies’ valuable time.” 

Jim scrambled over to his brother’s side. As soon as they touched the charming smiles dissolved into something real and tender. Sam brushed one long finger against Jim’s cheek as Jim smiled softly up at him.

Louisa awwed and both boys flinched.

“Here,” snapped Sam, and lobbed something towards Adele. She caught it awkwardly and studied it cautiously. It was a small brown medicine bottle, and her own name was neatly typed in the prescription box. The amount prescribed was ridiculous though, way over standard, there was enough here to kill at least two people.

She looked up to see two sets of clever, dangerous, eyes watching her knowingly.

“I doubt we’ll see you again,” said Sam, “so thank you for all your help. And for being so reasonable.”

“Bye-bye sweet princess,” Jim waved.

“Goodbye,” said Adele weakly and watched them walk away, Sam’s arm over his brother’s shoulders, Jim’s arm around his brother’s waist, hands resting over the brands hidden beneath their shirts.

“They’re such sweet boys,” said Louisa, “I really think they’ll make it.”

Adele sat down abruptly before her shaky knees gave out.


	5. Cadet Nyota Uhura

Cadet Nyota Uhura

Nyota had once, after too many Cardassian Sunrises, reluctantly admitted she found Jim Kirk cute. She wasn’t blind after all, and Jim had a thoroughly disarming ability to laugh at himself, which was both unexpected and charming. 

He wasn’t her type though. Too loud, too look at me, too blatantly full of himself. She much preferred the older Kirk brother’s calm assurance. Sam was quietly intelligent with a solid self-confidence unaffected by living in the shadow of his brilliant, outrageous younger brother.

With Sam there was none of Jim’s blatant flirting, he treated Nyota respectfully, like she was a lady and not a one-night conquest. He was endearingly shy, Nyota had to make most of the running in their courtship and it was a delightful change of pace to be the purser instead of the pursued.

Her roommate Gaila called Sam boring, but Nyota called it steady dependability. She didn’t want someone who’d take on four cadets just for the hell of it, the way Jim did when she first met him. And if Gaila had seen Sam storming into the fray in response to his brother’s howl, she would never think of calling him boring. The mere thought of that slim, lethal grace made Nyota shiver with delight.

Sam just had enough self-control not to haul off and punch random loud-mouthed cadets, like Jim did the day Finnegan pushed him too far. Everyone knew Finnegan went around pushing people’s buttons for the fun of it, and it was generally admitted to be only a matter of time before some slugged him for it.

Jim, though, broke Finnegan’s nose, cheekbone, jaw, and was going for his arm, when Sam yelled at him to stop, which, whining with frustration, Jim did.

Sam grabbed his brother and by the time authority arrived, Jim was wailing into his shoulder. Nyota was pretty sure they were crocodile tears, but campus security, two Captains, and dozens of gawping cadets seemed convinced.

“What the hell is going on here?” demanded Captain Millikan

“I don’t know, sir,” said Nyota, deeply uncomfortable under all the scrutiny. She and Sam had arrived on the quad to meet Jim just in time to hear Finnegan call out, “Here’s Samgee now,” and see Jim go totally crazy

“We‘re sorry, sir,” said Sam. “He called us cannibals, it’s a bit of a sore point.”

Air hissed like a leaky puncture as the entire crowd sucked their breath in through their teeth. It wasn’t that rumors about what exactly the Kirk brothers got up to on Tarsus didn’t swirl around them like smoke, but nobody mentioned it to their faces.

Nyota thought the whole thing was ridiculous; as if quiet, studious Sam or loud, irreverent Jim had ever led a children’s army. As for the stories about cannibalism, they were plain nasty and Finnegan didn’t warrant much sympathy if he threw them in Jim’s face.

Except it hadn’t been an accusation of cannibalism that led to Jim losing it. Nyota didn’t say anything though, because she hadn’t wanted to draw any more attention down on herself. Afterwards, when she’d had time to think it through, she still hadn’t said anything. Because Finnegan was obnoxious, and he had made Jim his particular target, everyone knew that. Did it really matter what Finnegan said that finally scraped under Jim’s skin?

She did bring it up with her boyfriend though, because the way Sam flat out lied to Captain Millikan, and the later board of inquiry, made her uncomfortable.

Sam laughed, “We weren’t lying. Finnegan did call us cannibals. Hell, he’s been calling Jim Hannibal behind our backs since day one. He can say it’s because Hannibal was a great tactician all he wants, everyone know it’s a reference to Hannibal the Cannibal in that film and its twenty-four sequels.”

Nyota squirmed uncomfortably, she hadn’t known Sam was aware of that nickname, and felt guilty for not telling him, and guilty by association for knowing about it.

“It wasn’t calling him a cannibal that made Jim snap.”

“No,” agreed Sam, “we don’t mind that one. But if the board of inquiry wants to find Finnegan guilty of cultural insensitivity for referring to us that way and let us off with a slap on the wrist and assign Finnegan two months compulsory cultural awareness training, who are we to argue.”

“Anything you say, Samgee,” she teased. 

He yanked away from her so abruptly he nearly knocked her off the sofa. 

“Don’t,” he warned, “don’t call me that.”

“What? You don’t think it’s silly Jim being so ridiculously touchy about that name?”

“No.” His whole body was stiff with outrage and his eyes were cold.

“You don’t mind cannibal, but you can’t cope with a little thing like Samgee?” She was getting annoyed now. “Jim’s always on at me to be more friendly, maybe I should call him Jay-”

“Shut up,” snarled Sam, “don’t you _dare_.”

Nyota cringed, she couldn‘t help it. He hadn’t spoken loudly, but there was deadly intent in his voice. Jim had broken Finnegan’s nose, cheek and jaw in less than a minute.

Sam leapt to his feet and stalked across the room bristling like a furious cat.

“Those are our names, just for us. Nobody else. You should understand that, you won’t even let Jim call you by your first name.”

Nyota huffed angrily. “Sure, but I don’t run around punching people either.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t punch the likes Finnegan if he called you Nyota in that slimy voice of his.”

“Of course not,” but she didn’t sound all that convincing, even to herself.

“Hah,” said Sam, also clearly unconvinced. He collapsed back onto the sofa.

“Oh be quiet. Finnegan is hardly a convincing argument. I think half the Academy have wanted to punch him at some point.”

“Only half?” asked Sam mildly and the conversation moved on, Jim showed up, and Nyota forgot that for a moment she’d been afraid Sam was going to punch _her_. 

She did wish, though, that Jim would stop showing up.

Because everywhere they went Jim inevitably showed up like an irrepressible third wheel. She hadn’t minded to begin with, it was nice that Sam didn’t expect a date to automatically end in sex, but with time it grew more and more irritating that she couldn’t spend time alone with her boyfriend. It was like Jim was chaperoning them for heaven’s sake.

Of course the image of Jim Kirk as a chaperone was absurd, because, and this frustrated Nyota to screaming point, he would not stop hitting on her.

He wasn’t offensive, or aggressive, just persistent, endlessly persistent. Nyota didn’t understand it. Wasn’t there something in the guy code about not hitting on your brother’s girlfriend? She could only assume Jim’s idiotic male pride was offended at the idea of a woman preferring his brother to him. Nyota found his whole attitude to be supremely childish, but Sam merely accepted it, apparently too used to his brother’s ridiculous antics to consider objecting.

Inevitably it all came to a head one night. Sam’s doctor roommate had a nightshift, they’d managed to ditch Jim at some club, and she and Sam were back in his room snuggling most satisfactorily on the couch. 

She twisted and shoved at Sam’s shoulders until he fell back to lie prone. Hitching up her skirt, she straddled his hips and leant forward to rub her body against his and slid her hands into his hair to hold him still so she could nip and kiss at his lips. Sam writhed against her and whimpered.

“Lights on full,” said a voice from across the room. “Hey, a party! Can anyone join in?”

Nyota stared in horror at Jim. He sat up from his sprawl across the bed with a little bounce.

“Uhura, you’re looking totally banging tonight.”

Nyota gave a little squeak of outrage and wrenched away from Sam like he’d burned her.

“Jim, you jerk, what the hell are you doing in Sam’s bed?”

“You haven’t any room to talk, right now you’re in my bed,” he leered exaggeratedly at her.

“It’s a couch, Jim. You have a perfectly good room across campus, you do not need to sleep on a couch in your brother’s room.”

“Dirac _snores_ ,” said Jim as if this was the worst possible offence in world. “Besides the entertainment’s better here.” He eyed up her legs and Nyota’s fingers twitched to tug at her skirt.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Aww come on, you telling me you’re not up for a threesome?”

She growled with frustration and turned on Sam, who’d sat up himself and was looking particularly pale and untouchable, “Are you going to let him speak to me like that?”

“I don’t control Jim.”

Nyota glared, beyond furious at the evasion. Did they honestly think she was too stupid to notice that Jim didn’t do a thing Sam didn’t want him to?

“Why do you let him get him away with this?” she demanded.

Sam shrugged his shoulders as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

“All right, that is it. I have had enough. You need to choose, me or him?” Even as she spoke she knew it was a ridiculous challenge, that Sam would only ever jump one way.

“What do you mean?” The puzzlement in Sam’s face had increased. 

Committed to her forlorn hope, Nyota said, “Either you stop hanging around with Jim, or you stop hanging around with me.”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yeah she is.” Jim sat forward watching his brother intently.

“Goodbye Uhura,” said Sam without any emotion at all

Nyota bit her lip, he could have at least pretended he had to think about it for a moment, or that it cost something to let her go.

She turned angrily on Jim, “Fine, I’m gone. You win. Are you happy now?”

“I always win. Bye-bye sweet princess.” Jim waved mockingly at her.

With an incensed half-scream of sheer aggravation, she stormed out the room, slamming the door behind her as hard as she could. So hard, in fact, that it bounced open again, and she couldn’t resist turning to see how Sam had reacted.

Sam was huddled up into a small ball on the sofa, Jim crouched at his feet talking urgently. 

A mean little thrill of satisfaction curled through her. She took a step back towards the room, prepared to be magnanimous. Jim glanced around, his eyes narrowing when he saw her. He jumped to his feet, expression daring her to say a word, and shut the door firmly in her face.

She stood there for a second, staring at the closed door. She really did like Sam. Remembering Jim’s dark, angry eyes, she shook her head briskly, she wasn‘t going to waste any more energy fighting Jim’s toddler-sense of entitlement to his brother’s time.

Head high, she walked away.

 

Because the Academy was a total goldfish bowl, despite her best efforts, she bumped into them less than a week later at the local bar.

Sam and his doctor roommate sat kitty corner to each other on sofas at the back of the room. As she watched, Jim walked over, placed three drinks on the center table and collapsed on Sam’s sofa, slouching up against his brother like an overgrown cat. Without even looking at Jim, Sam hooked an arm around his waist and spread his hand out over his stomach. Jim arched his back and eased closer. The music was too loud to let her hear, but she’d swear Jim was actually purring.

“God they’re weird,” said Kadia, handing Nyota a stiff drink, “good on you for dumping their asses.”

Nyota’d had received several comments like that. She found it vaguely disturbing that they’d all made it sound like she’d being dating both of them, when everyone knew she‘d been dating Sam, and wouldn‘t touch Jim with a barge pole. She’d pointed this out to Gaila, but Gaila just laughed at her and left her feeling foolish. Nyota intensely disliked feeling foolish, so she kept quiet after that.

She drifted closer, trying to look casual. 

The roommate rubbed his hand over his face. “Why is Jim draped across you like an over-friendly blanket?”

“Huh?” said Sam.

“Seriously, you’re not usually this bad in public.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Jim convinced Nyota to dump me,” and did Sam have to make it sound like Jim had been doing him a favor, “it’s only fair he takes her place.”

Nyota shifted uncomfortably, that sounded all kinds of wrong.

The roommate sighed, “You’re being creepy again.”

Sam jabbed Jim with his elbow, and Jim sat up a bit. 

“What?” Sam laughed, “My girlfriend dumped me, it’s Jim’s brotherly duty to take me out and get me drunk.”

“That’s better.” The roommate picked up one of the glasses and took a sip.

Jim stretched luxuriously and stood up, holding out his hand to his brother, “Come on Samgee, you need to practice your dirty-dancing.”

Nyota smiled, because that was so, so true. When called upon to dance, Sam resembled a plank of wood, an annoyed plank of wood.

“I don’t know why I bother,” the roommate groaned. He threw back the rest of his drink, helped himself to one of the others and resettled himself more comfortably on the sofa. Jim tugged Sam onto the crowed dance floor and began to demonstrate how to bump and grind.

Nyota really didn’t want to think too hard about that snippet of conversation, or let her brain re-evaluate anything in the light of it. She definitely didn’t want to remember seeing her ex-boyfriend dancing disturbingly close to his brother and looking far happier and far more relaxed than he ever had with her.

So she hurried back to her friends and started drinking hard and didn’t stop until the whole evening was mostly fuzz and she only retained the strong feeling that the Kirk brothers should be carefully avoided.


	6. Cadet Gary Mitchell

Cadet Gary Mitchell

Gary, as a senior cadet, generally considered himself above associating with the lower years, but he was definitely prepared to make an exception for Jim Kirk. Jim was as cute as all get out and Gary could smell the rich scent of his future glory. 

Gary’s sense of smell didn’t work like other people’s from what he could tell. Nobody else seemed to be able to smell thoughts, or the future, like he could and he used it to his advantage whenever possible. 

Regular trips to Vegas supplemented his derisory Cadet’s allowance very nicely. In poker a good hand of cards had the distinctive tang of warm chocolate, a bad one the stink of sour milk. Gary could never remember which was higher a straight, or a flush, or exactly what a flush was, he just knew if he had a winning hand, which, when you got down to it, was all he needed to know. Roulette was the same, when he slid the chips into a winning position the acrid itch in his nose softened to the sweet smell of frying onions.

People were easy to figure out with such helpful cues. Commander Spock, a total prissy bitch, had been set to drive Gary to distraction with his hard-ass Advanced Tactics course. But Gary had easily picked up his repressed passion and hunger for contact. A few words to the chick with the princess complex on the challenge of breaking through a Vulcan’s walls to the ardent heart beneath (Gary was proud of the crap he could spout when required) and Uhura and Spock were an item. They tried to hide it too, despite smelling of fresh cut grass whenever they so much as made eye contact. 

He let them pretend it was secret and put the knowledge away for later use if required. Advanced Tactics became significantly easier with Spock’s distraction, but Gary saw no harm in having a backup plan.

The heavy sandalwood scent of future glory hung about Jim so strongly Gary was certain that, for once, other people could also smell too. It would explain why Captain Pike recruited him and his brother despite their general weirdness. Gary didn’t think much of the rumors, the Tarsus ones, or the ones about their step-father. Truly dangerous people, like some of his poker opponents, smelt of sharp metal and rotting leaves. Gary always knew to fold then and walk away, no matter how much money he had on the table. 

There was nothing of that about the Kirks. Though sometimes, when they touched, it made Gary sneeze. Nothing he’d encountered before had made him sneeze and he was still trying to figure out what he was picking up there and what it meant. 

Not that he particularly cared. 

Jim Kirk was a sexy little piece he’d want to fuck regardless and combined with a chance to grab some of the upcoming glory, well, Gary was considering monogamy, at least temporarily. 

As a bonus there was a sickly cotton-candy scent of jealousy around Sam Kirk every time he saw Gary with his brother. It made Gary wonder if he could have both of them, and how entertaining it would be when they found out about each other. Breaking up the tight bond between the brothers could only be a good thing; Jim was annoyingly dependent on his older brother.

He hadn’t quite pinned Jim down yet, but there was the intoxicating smell of lust and repressed longing whenever Gary was around him that told Gary it wouldn’t be long. If he had his way it would be tonight. Jim was dressed up for it, a loose black silky shirt and tight black pants that hugged the curve of his enticing ass.

Jim, claiming a headache, had suggested they leave the club early and Gary had eagerly agreed. Now they were walking back to the dorm Jim shared with his brother and another cadet. As they paused by the door, Garry coaxed,

“You should come back to my place.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t do that,” said Jim, “Sam would worry.”

Gary bit back what he wanted to say about the insanely protective Samuel Kirk. Jim would brook no criticism of his older brother despite Sam being an idiot who apparently hadn’t noticed his brother was a legal adult.

“Aw c’mon, you’re a big boy, act like it.” He pushed Jim back against the wall and moved in to sample his mouth.

“Hey,” Jim slid his hands along Gary’s upper arms, holding him back from completing the kiss. “Cool it down.”

“Nobody likes a tease,” he warned, shoving forwards. Jim’s arm muscles bunched as he held him back. Disconcertingly, Gary realized he couldn’t break the grip.

“Don’t act so coy,” he sneered, “you’re clearly gagging for it.” He twisted and yanked to try and break Jim’s grip. Abruptly Jim let go and Gary staggered into him. Jim let out a pained, high-pitched yelp.

“That is enough,” growled a new voice. A hand grabbed Gary’s collar and hauled him back. “You leave my brother the fuck alone.”

Gary discovered Sam Kirk was significantly stronger than his wiry frame looked as Sam threw him back into the street. Gary tripped, stumbled and went down on one knee. Apparently considering him disposed of, Sam turned on his brother,

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”

Jim shrugged with his whole body. He was sprawled back against the wall, louche and debauched.

Gary couldn’t work out what was going on. He wondered if Sam was homophobic, it still cropped up occasionally, usually in relation to family members. Jim didn’t look worried, and that was just stupid, the air was crackling with tension and it smelled of the damp ionized air just before a lighting-storm.

Since Sam seemed to have temporarily forgotten him, Gary decided a retreat into the shadows would be judicious. He crept out of the road and into the protective shadow of a large metal dumpster and waited for the entertainment to start.

Sam stalked towards his brother, every line of his body deadly with intent. Jim grinned and darted forwards, lashing out with one foot and knocking himself and Sam to floor. They yanked away from each other, Sam coming up on his knees, Jim crouched on all fours.

They stared unblinking for a long second, then Jim laughed out loud and thumped his forearms twice against the ground. Sam lunged forwards as Jim bounced backwards out of reach, still laughing.

He didn’t go far just circled around the strip of sidewalk as Sam chased after him, finally catching him with a lunging tackle that left them rolling across the tarmac into the dark shadows at the side of the building. Gary could hear their teeth-snapping and growling as they tussled with each other.

He crept around the dumpster and peered out for a better view.

Jim wrenched himself away from Sam’s hold, barking with laughter. He didn’t retreat fast enough though, and Sam grabbed at him again. Jim batted him away with quick hands. Sam batted back, sliding under Jim’s guard to shove him with thigh and shoulder and send Jim skittering across the hard ground.

Sam pounced. 

Jim grunted as Sam piled into him, using with the full weight of his body to slam him into the ground. Sam caught Jim’s wrists in a tight grip and trapped his arms above his head. His hips settled between Jim’s legs, pinning him in place.

For a long moment there was only their low, breathless panting, then Jim moaned softly and his head rolled back, arching his neck and exposing his pale throat. 

Gary couldn’t understand Sam’s lethal, quiet whisper, couldn’t even identify the language.

“Samgee.” Jim bucked up against his brother.

“Jaytee. Mine.” Sam bent his head. Jim’s breathing quickened and he whined with anticipation. Sam’s head snapped forward.

Gary couldn’t see the bite but he did see Jim’s whole body jerk with reaction. As Jim wriggled and shivered against him, Sam ground down against his brother.

“Samsamsam,” Jim whispered helplessly. He struggled until he managed to tug one hand free and then slid it under his brother’s jacket to rest against the small of his back.

“Mine,” said Sam, and they shuddered together.

Limp and panting, Sam flopped forward onto Jim. He nosed at Jim’s neck, making him whimper as he scraped at tender skin.

Gary stared, unwilling to believe he was correctly interpreting what his senses were telling him.

Both brothers were laughing now, quiet and happy. Jim pushed against Sam’s chest and Sam levered himself up into a sitting position, pulling Jim with him. Jim hummed blissfully, curling up on his brother’s lap and rubbing the side of his face against Sam’s chest. Sam rumbled back and skritched his fingers through his brother’s hair.

Gary began a careful retreat, freezing in place when his foot crunched down on a discarded plastic bag, the sound loud in the still night.

Two heads lifted and swiveled, searching for the source of the noise.

“Ah it’s nothing,” said Jim finally. He slapped Sam hard on the shoulder, “You’re it,” he declared as he shot to his feet and started to run.

Sam pushed himself to his feet more slowly, eyes searching out Gary’s in the darkness. Sam didn’t say anything, just stared at him with dead eyes. Gary’s nostrils were full of the metallic stench of blood. He sneezed twice in quick succession. Sam grinned, sharp canine teeth glinting in the half-light.

“C’mon, c’mon,” called Jim impatiently, turning around to jog backwards.

Sam’s attention snapped straight to his brother and he ran quickly towards him. Jim kept to his slow pace until Sam was almost in touching distance, then he turned and tore away. Sam growled with delight and sprinted after him. Even as they raced, they were both laughing breathlessly.

Gary crept home and, for the rest of his time at the Academy, did his best to pretend the Kirk brothers didn’t exist. He knew when to walk away.


	7. And Dr Leonard McCoy (reluctantly also known as Bones)

Dr Leonard McCoy (reluctantly also known as Bones)

Len thought the Kirk brothers were creepy as hell from the moment he met them, collapsing down beside two beat up kids, who tilted their heads at the exact same angle and smiled identical smiles.

“We’re SamandJim,” said the one with the bloody nose. It wasn’t until halfway through the shuttle trip that Len found out this was actually Jim.

He didn’t find out they were brothers until three days later.

Possibly he was misled by the way Sam’s hand was tucked under the waist of Jim’s jeans to rest possessively over the skin of his hip. Or the way Jim carefully held Sam’s free hand in both of his, like it was something precious.

Or possibly that when he said, “Shit kid, you’re a mess, you should get cleaned up.” Sam had lent forward and straight out licked the bloody trails from Jim’s face with delicate flicks of his tongue.

Len’d scowled and said, “You know, normal people use a kleenex.”

Sam had hummed disbelievingly, but Jim nodded seriously, “Kleenex,” he agreed, and Len could see him storing that fact away for later use. Normal people used a kleenex to clean themselves up.

Yeah, the Kirk brothers were creepy.

 

Weirdly they were less creepy once he found out they were brothers. Their level of fucked-upness just made more sense if it had the weight of family behind it.

Not that they didn’t make the hairs on the back of Len’s neck stand up when he staggered in late after a shift at the hospital and the impossible tangle of limbs on Sam’s bed looked up and two sets of eyes gleamed at him out of the dark.

Marek, Len’s lab partner, said he didn’t understand how Len could sleep in the same room with them, “I’d be too scared I’d wake up one day and find they’d chopped me into pieces and buried me in the main quad.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” said Len, “they’re insane, not stupid. If they were going to bury me anywhere it would be that waste patch out of sight behind the Phlox Lecture Theater.” 

“Yeah,” Marek said slowly as he shook his head. “You know if they were normal you’d have said ‘don’t be ridiculous, of course they aren’t going to kill me.’”

Len rolled his eyes, “I like the kids, but only an idiot would think they were normal.” The only rumor Len didn’t believe about them was the one that had Sam Kirk _accidentally_ shooting their step-father dead. 

“Exactly. All the classic hallmarks of serial killers.”

Len snorted. “They’re not going to kill anybody. Us mere mortals aren’t worth the bother of killing.”

“You obviously haven’t had Sam Kirk staring at you with those crazy, crazy eyes.”

“Because I have the sense not to get handsy his brother.” 

Marek had succumbed to Jim’s undoubted charms and made his interest painfully obvious. Sam had made his disapproval of that state of affairs equally obvious. Sam made very sure everyone understood that Jim was off limits. 

Jim was just as bad, but better at pretending to be a normal human being, or rather was willing to but the effort into pretending to be normal. Sam had a better grasp of normal than his brother but at the same time had apparently said fuck you to normal a long time ago. 

Jim had settled on the art of extreme flirtation to deal with Sam’s unwanted admirers. Anyone who showed the least interest in Sam was treated to the full force of Jim’s beaux yeux until they’d forgotten all about his brother. 

At which point, of course, Sam ran them off with his crazy, crazy eyes.

The only person it didn’t work on was Nyota Uhura who appeared to have immunity to Jim’s charm and she actually managed to date Sam for almost a month before Jim succeeded in running her off. Len might have said something then, because it wasn’t right for Jim to throw a jealous strop and drive away Sam’s girlfriend, except Sam seemed positively relieved to have his girlfriend driven away.

After that Jim got louder and bolder and even more flirtatious and nobody seemed to show any interest in Sam. But Jim kept batting his lashes on his own account and the results were the same. Sam would suddenly appear – he never did much, just narrowed his eyes and smiled – and the intruder would back off with the sort of caution usually reserved for unexploded bombs.

After a year or so of this, Len was pretty sure the other Cadets had started to use ‘flirting with Jim Kirk’ as the most extreme double-dog dare.

He had asked Jim once, “Why’d you do that anyway?”

“It’s fun,” Jim grinned and did a happy little bounce.

“So you enjoy having those poor saps falling all over you?” 

“Huh?” Jim looked completely baffled.

“Guess not. So why do you do it then?” Len was genuinely curious. Jim was attractive and his obsessive intensity could come across as charming one on one, but Len had never really seen Jim use that to gain advantage or keep anyone on the hook for long.

“Sam,” said Jim, as if that should have been obvious. 

Len rolled his eyes, because of course it was obvious. He was pretty sure everything Jim did from opening his eyes in the morning linked back to his brother. 

“Of course it’s Sam. But why? You don’t like other people paying attention to Sam?” That was obviously true but even as he said it, Len knew that was only part of the story.

“I like Sam paying attention to _me_.” Jim nodded firmly.

“Uh huh.”

After that it was easy to spot, and Len spent the next year and a half watching Jim hook his poor sap and reel him in just long enough for Sam to notice and then sit back and bask in his brother’s protective, possessive, fury. 

Then one day, someone smiled a little too long at Jim and a hand hovered just shy of his arm. Before Sam could even reach them, Jim was abruptly rigid with fury and glaring at the interloper with crazy, crazy eyes.

Len very carefully did not think too closely about the possible reasons for the sudden change in tactics

 

He wondered sometimes if he should say something but in their own warped way Sam and Jim were two of the happiest people he’d ever met and, apart from a natural disinclination to interfere in somebody else’s business, he had no idea who he could say something to. 

Starfleet had a whole host of psychologists more qualified than he would ever be and Sam and Jim had passed all the tests required to join Starfleet. And the kids were perfectly functional, or maybe really good at faking functional.

And it wasn’t that they weren’t capable of empathy or kindness, it was just that empathy and kindness tended to come out in disturbing ways.

Like when Len was heading back to Georgia at the end of their first year and Jim, sprawled over Sam, who was sprawled against the steps in the main quad, lifted his head from his brother’s chest and said,

“Have a great time Bones. And call us if you need any help burying the body.”

It was a hot July day, but Len was suddenly very cold. There was something in Jim’s tone that raised the hairs on his arms and shuddered like ice cubes down his spine.

“What?” said Jim, innocence burning in his blue eyes. “Normal people say that all the time.” 

“Yes,” Len licked his dry lips, “but they don’t actually mean it.”

Jim’s nose wrinkled in confusion. It should have been cute.

“Call us,” ordered Sam, his eyes blinking heavy-lidded in the sunshine. “We’ll fix you up.”

And Len knew that they would. That he only had to ask and the brothers would dig Jocelyn a shallow grave in the Georgia dirt. That they’d go further. A handful of words from him and Jim would be on Jocelyn’s doorstep full of smiling charm until the moment Sam’s strong capable hands tightened around Jocelyn’s pretty little neck.

For one ice shard moment, temptation yawned in front of Len like a dark chasm hungry to swallow him whole. He gasped for air like a drowning man and took an actual physical step backwards.

“It’s fine,” he said firmly while his legs shook.

“Offer’s open, man,” Jim grinned. Sam nodded seriously.

“It’s fine.” He turned and walked away. The heat of sun only making him more aware of the cold sweat under his arms, along his back, behind his knees. Walking as steadily as he could he made it out of the quad and into the partial shade of the chem building. There he slumped back against the cool hard brick and gazed helplessly up at blazing blue sky.

It would have been nice to place the blame squarely on their shoulders, to say that their jagged edges had somehow infected him; but they were just shattered mirrors reflecting back the darkness around them.

It was his fault. 

He knew, _he knew_ , that Jim was using him as a model for appropriate behavior. He had no business drowning in bourbon and letting his damn cantankerous mouth spew enough poison to make Jim think disposing of an ex was the friendly thing to do.

At that moment he made a promise to never get so drunk he lost control of his tongue again. And for the first time in a long time, he had someone else relying on him keeping his word and a reason to stick to his promise.

They were still fucking creepy though.

 

Then the whole world went to hell. 

Jim was on academic suspension after finally taking the Kobayashi Maru. Captain Pike had delayed it as long as he could, apparently thinking the character-based strategy test would be a little too revealing of his protégé’s character. Instead the Academy Instructors comprehensively demonstrated they had absolutely no insight into either of the kids.

Jim ended up suspended for ‘purposely taking actions designed to exceed the limits of the simulation and cause it to fail,’ meaning the idiots thought Jim was purposely crashing the simulation when he declared he and Sam would beam over to Klingon ship and distract them while the USS Trainer rescued the Maru.

Since the simulation had never been designed with Kirks in mind, that wasn’t a possible action and the whole program stalled out. Amusingly Jim was honestly confused, and simply didn’t get why nobody else could see it was the obvious tactic.

“You know how honor-blind the Klingons are, they’d never call for help while there are humans actually on their ship. Once Bones has rescued the Kobayashi Maru, Sam and I would set the timers on the explosives and beam back over to the Trainer. Okaily-dokaily!”

Multiple cold-eyed stares were sent his way.

“What?”

“Okaily-dokaily?” said Sam dubiously.

“Oh,” Jim pouted, “I like that one. Alright then. Simples!”

Len coughed, “I don’t think it was the slang they were objecting to.”

“Cadet Kirk,” said the Vulcan Instructor, “you cannot expect us to believe you would truly take this course of action.”

Jim blinked stupidly.

“All else aside, Cadet George Kirk is neither qualified nor trained to undertake such a mission.”

Sam just folded his arms and shifted his weight so he stood solidly at Jim’s side. 

The Vulcan Instructor clearly didn’t like his test being broken because Jim ended up suspended regardless. Then a distress call arrived from Vulcan and some moron thought Sam would get on a ship and leave his brother behind. Len fixed it so Jim came with them into space because it was better than Sam going AWOL to stay on Earth. He didn’t even feel bad about it; he’d clearly been hanging around the kids for too long.

Things continued to go to hell in a hand-basket despite the kids’ best efforts and Len’s quixotry ended up saving his life because if he hadn’t been on the Bridge with Sam and Jim he’d have been blown up with the rest of Medbay.

When they finally took stock after the loss of Vulcan, Len was wrung out and hazy with exhaustion. When the blurry, out-of-focus Acting Captain declared they would retreat and join the rest of the fleet, Len wasn’t exactly surprised that Jim reacted. Weirdly Sam and Jim were the only clear, sharp-edged objects on the fuzzily indistinct bridge.

Jim was a heartbeat from violence when Sam grabbed his shoulder.

“That ship will tear through the Earth’s defenses.” Sam hissed the words low and vicious in the sudden silence, “Earth will be a smoking black hole before we even make it halfway to the Laurentium system.”

“We will follow Captain Pike’s last orders.”

“So what, you’re going to let that madman destroy Earth because you’re too crazy with grief to see straight?” Sam pushed past Jim and shoved himself right up into the Vulcan’s personal space. “How illogical and emotionally human. Your mother would be so proud of you.” 

“Get away from me!” The words were roared, the Vulcan swung his arm, and Sam flew back and crashed into the control consol.

Jim made a noise that wasn’t even human. Then all Len saw was a brutal flurry of bodies and fists, until Sam was yanking his brother back and the Vulcan was a heap on the floor. Jim was shaking and breathing heavily. Sam cooed softly.

“ _Nobody_ touches my brother,” Jim shuddered. He looked on the verge of flying apart as he trembled in Sam’s grip.

Everyone still conscious took a step back from them, even Len.

After a moment Jim shook his head. “Right,” He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. “Right.”

“Your orders Captain,” said Sam briskly, and Len was again reminded that the older Kirk brother really did grasp how the rest of the world worked, he just couldn’t be fucked to make the effort unless it was for Jim.

“Wait,” said Uhura, “who put Kirk in charge?”

Sam stood to attention, “Captain Pike declared him acting First Officer before we left to sabotage the drill, Lieutenant.”

Len and everyone else turned to Sulu as the only one who could confirm such an outrageous statement. Sulu cringed subtly under their gazes before he straightened himself,

“It’s true, Captain Pike did say he was First Officer.”

“Exactly,” said Jim. He pulled himself into his Captain pose that Len had seen him practice in front of the mirror. “Acting Captain Spock is emotionally compromised and has been removed from duty. Please mark your records accordingly, Doctor.”

Len jumped as he realized Jim was addressing him directly, “Yes,” he said quickly, then added, “Sir,” because Jim needed his position shoring up, and _somebody_ had to be in charge or they were all going to collapse into chaos. And while Len wouldn’t trust Jim to organize a Sunday school picnic (the parents would all have heart attacks when the kids came back ready to take on a Klingon strike force) he had no doubts at all that Armageddon was Jim’s time to shine.

“Good, call someone to take him to Medbay, and let’s get going.”

“Where exactly,” said Uhura, with deadly-sweet patience, “are we going, _Captain_?”

“We’re gonna catch up with the Narada, Sam and me will beam across, pick up Captain Pike and drop off some explosives, problem sorted.” Jim’s posture slipped from ramrod straight captain into poised on the balls of his feet, arms loose, ready for anything. He bounced in anticipation.

Len sighed. It was probably a good indicator of their likely survival but he did wish Jim wasn’t quite so obviously enjoying Armageddon.

“Sam’s a scientist, you can’t drag him off onto an enemy ship,” Uhura protested.

Len rolled his eyes. Both brothers stared at her as if she was an interesting piece of furniture. After a second, Jim turned his attention back to the rest of them,

“Okay then, Bones is acting First Officer –”

“Wait, what,” sputtered Len.

“Sorry, Lieutenant McCoy is promoted to acting First Officer. Stop choking Bones, all you need to do his supervise as Sulu keeps the Narada away from Earth. When she blows so will whatever makes black holes and I think that had better be far away from Earth. Sam would be pissed if I let Earth get blown up.”

And so it went. They came out of warp practically on top of the Narada, Jim spat some things in Romulan,

“What is he saying?” Len hissed at Sam.

“It’s kinda the Romulan equivalent of ‘you fucking killed my fucking father, fucking prepare to fucking die, you fucker’.” Sam grinned as the Romulan Captain howled and punched the camera screen, “Only with a lot more profanity.”

And then they were running at warp-6 the Narada in hot pursuit. Jim had already jiggered with the beaming protocols and now the little Russian at the controls wrang his hands and cried, “but it iz not possible.”

“Oh sure it is,” said Jim cheerfully, “the stupid morons never bothered to consider it from the point of view of stationary ships and moving space, which is pretty much basic relativity. Seriously, _Bones_ could do these calculations.”

“Really think I couldn’t,” muttered Len.

Jim blinked in confusion.

“Jaytee, no one else is as brilliant as you,” explained Sam patiently.

“You are brillianter, Samgee,” Jim stood up straight, glowing with holy conviction.

Len heaved a sigh and growled, “You’re leaking.”

“I mean let’s get this show on the road,” Jim said briskly. He and Sam stepped up onto beaming platform. They were standing barely an inch apart and Len could almost see the tension crackle in the space between them.

The kids were so damn cheerful it was only belatedly occurring to Len that this was the suicide mission the Academy Instructors had considered so ridiculous they hadn’t even thought it was a possibility. He shook himself, he couldn’t change the mission but he could give them this,

“Stop a second,” he said, “this is all experimental, you should stand closer together and make yourself one target.”

“It’s not experimental,” said Sam, “ _Jim_ did the calculations.” But he stepped closer all the same. Jim wriggled even closer hooking himself under his brother’s arm. They had bright grins on their faces, one hand on each other, one hand on each other’s phasers.

Len closed his eyes against their gleaming brilliance and tried not to think that he was seeing them for the last time. As the humming transporter took them, he found himself wondering if Sam had always been left-handed or if he’d retrained himself to protect his brother’s blind side.

Then the Enterprise took such a wildly evasive maneuver that the stabilizers momentarily failed and Len flew into the wall. The Russian tech yelped and stabbed at his control consol. Len decided he’d better go and see exactly what was happening on the bridge. The kids were going to need somewhere to beam back to.

It was the longest thirty minutes Len had ever experienced. The kids were obviously doing _something,_ because the ship’s attack on the Enterprise grew abruptly erratic before tailing off completely. Then all that was left was a tense, nerve-ratcheting wait. 

Finally a screaming white and electric blue missile burst away from the huge dark hulk, the transporter room techs started yelling, and the shuddering boom of an explosion rocked through the ship.

It was spectacular. Len felt his ears pop under the pressure wave as Jim’s voice echoed across the bridge, _go, go, go, now, now, now._

They went.

Back on Earth they found total bedlam. Fortunately Len missed most of the fallout because he was busy making sure Captain Pike would keep the use of his legs. He came out of the operating theater to find Jim, Sam prowling behind him like an agitated cat, in a yelling contest with five Admirals, which ended abruptly when Jim called out, “Bones,” and promptly collapsed.

Thinking about it later, Len realized that was the biggest compliment Jim could pay him. To let his body give way and trust that Len would be there to watch out for Sam. 

Right then, he’d been busy being grateful that Sam was too caught up in catching his brother’s lax body to do more than spare the Admirals a flat-eyed glare. 

Sam had followed him silently to an exam room, laying Jim carefully on the biobed before taking station at his side. Jim was breathing under his own steam, and when Len checked the readings he was pleased to see there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with him.

“He’ll be fine. Just been banged around too much.”

Sam didn’t visibly react but the intense pressure in the room rolled back as if the sun was coming up after a storm. Len sighed with relief and settled down to fixing Jim. He had a nasty feeling insane universe-hopping Romulans thought small in comparison to Sam Kirk when it came to revenge.

Although it was not strictly necessary, he kept Jim partially sedated for the next couple of days. Jim was a bad patient and it would help with the healing, particularly his neck and ribs, but Len did it mostly because it kept Jim out of all the formal enquiries, internal de-briefings, and press interviews. He didn’t think Starfleet, or the general public, were quite ready for Jim’s brutal honesty. So Len watched over Jim while Sam went to endless meetings and if Sam didn’t exactly play nice, at least nobody got arrested. 

Len started to bring Jim round while Sam was in the last of the immediate post-mortems. He had intended for Jim to come round just after Sam came storming in after his meeting. Unfortunately Jim’s humming bird metabolism caught him out again and Jim blinked awake a good half an hour before there was any hope of Sam.

“Sam’s okay,” Len said straight away. 

“Where is he?”

“The Admiralty have him in another meeting. I’ve sent one of the nurses to let him know you’re awake.”

Jim didn’t say anything, just jerked himself into a sitting position. Len could see he was gritting his teeth behind the grim line of his mouth.

“Settle down, you idiot. Sam’s fine.” If it had been any other patient, Len would have shifted them physically, but Jim had a high-startle reflex and experience had proved touching either of the kids when they were distracted was a bad idea. (Jim had been extremely apologetic about the black eye, the first time anyway.)

“Sam is not fine. Not if he’s had those idiots jawing at him non-stop for the last however long.”

“Two days. And Sam is just fine. He doesn’t need you rushing to his rescue.”

Jim glared.

“And the nurse is already on her way to fetch him. If you leave now you’ll end up missing each other.

Jim snorted but let himself flop back against the headboard.

“Alright,” said Len, taking victory where he could, “let me prop you up with a few pillows and then I’ll run some checks.”

Jim batted him away, “Don’t fuss so, Bones. If there was a problem the biobed would be shrieking at us.”

Len took hold of his patience with both hands. “That’s as maybe, but you and your brother damn near killed yourselves, so forgive me for worrying.”

The fight whooshed out Jim like air from a punctured balloon. He huddled up against the head of the bed, pulling his knees in against his chest. He said quietly,

“We nearly did die.”

“You were very brave,” said Len, trying to be encouraging. He had no idea what to do with a deflated Jim Kirk as he had never encountered such a thing before. “You saved Earth. You’re heroes.”

Jim rolled his eyes at him, “Fuck’s sake Bones, you sound like one of those moronic recruitment posters. I don’t care about dying. But I lied to Sam, do you get it, I lied to Sam and we nearly died before I could tell him.”

“Um,” said Len unintelligently. The brothers were so close it was something of a surprise to discover they _could_ lie to each other.

“I just,” Jim grabbed at the air for words, “even with everything I never really thought we’d die, so I pretended it didn’t matter but it does.” His head dropped, “I _lied_ to Sam,” he repeated softly.

The wrecked devastation in Jim’s voice made Len shiver. He sounded as if he were confessing mortal sacrilege that left him eternally condemned.

“Sam will forgive you.” Len was sure he was safe ground there. He didn’t think Sam and Jim knew how not to forgive each other. But then he hadn’t though they knew how to lie to each other either.

“I _lied_ to _Sam_ ,” Jim screamed, boiling over with frustration and fury. His voice cracked and broke, and he collapsed in on himself, head pressed tight against his knees. He looked small, abandoned, and lost. Len couldn’t keep watching, it was too much like a betrayal. He turned his head away; and caught Sam poised to enter the room, frozen in place.

Sam’s eyes were wide and shattered. It looked like everything had broken inside him. Len gave up the faint hope that this wasn’t the big the deal Jim was making it.

“Uh,” he said, “I guess you mostly tell Sam the truth, huh?”

“I always tell Sam the truth, it was just that one time. But what difference does that make. I still lied to him.”

In the doorway life was creeping back into Sam’s face, his eyes had narrowed and he was staring at Jim as if he was trying to see inside his head. Len was also wondering what could have been worth one lie when it had obviously cost Jim so much. He wasn’t coming up with any good answers. He thought about his wife and why she had lied to him. There was no way this could end well.

Since Sam apparently wasn’t moving any time soon, and maybe it would be better for Sam not have to face Jim straight away, maybe he’d want to pretend he never knew the truth, Len asked,

“What was the lie?”

Jim muttered something so quietly Len couldn’t hear him.

“What was that?”

“I said, the step-dad never touched me.”

“What!”

“The step-dad never touched me.”

“But…” Len had heard that story, how their step-father had touched young Jim inappropriately and Sam had accidentally shot him while trying to protect his younger brother. The only bit Len hadn’t believed was the _accidentally_ part.

“He never would have touched me either.” Jim folded his arms and smiled smugly. “He was far too sacred of what Sam would do.”

“So why did you say that?”

“Because he hurt Sam.” Jim’s face slowly twisted up with hatred until he was unrecognizable. “He hurt Sam and Sam said it was okay as long as he left me alone.”

“So you lied.”

“I tried to kill him myself,” Jim protested, as if this had been the better option. 

“Right,” said Len weakly.

“Mom had this book on how to butcher hogs, but I wasn’t sure I could slit his throat before he got the knife off me. The book wasn’t very clear on that stage. Two of the hogs got away from me when I was practicing. And the step-dad was much bigger.” With his hands he sketched out somebody the size of a small mountain. 

Len thought about how old Jim had been, and how small he would have been and realized a biggish guy probably would have seemed the size of a mountain. Looking at Jim huddled up in bed, there was a weird double image and it was if he could see ten year old Jimmy earnestly explaining that he really truly had tried to kill his step-father, cross his heart and hope to die.

“I cut his brakes, twice, but there’s not a lot to smash into in the middle-of-nowhere Iowa. I wasn’t sure a fire would finish him off, not many people die in fires anymore, I looked it up. I would have shot him myself but Mom wouldn’t key my thumbprint into the gun cabinet, and she got all twitchy when I asked.

“So I lied – to Sam,” he repeated again as if Len had yet to understand the full iniquity of his deed.

“And Sam shot him.”

“Obviously,” said Jim. “But then everybody got mad with Sam, I don’t know why, but they did. Nobody should ever be mad with Sam. Sam’s mine. And when I tell him I lied, Sam will hate me.”

The groan from the door was a death-rattle. Moving on instinct Len just had time to get out the way before Sam fled through the room and into his brother. Len couldn’t recognize any words in the howl of speech except _Jimmy_ , and _I’m glad_.

He retreated to the doorway, but was unwilling to leave until he was sure things had resolved themselves, truthfully he was curious and _wanted_ to see things resolve themselves.

Jim yanked the IV out of his arm without a second thought. Len’s fingers itched but he wasn’t prepared to get any closer to their burning intensity as they wrapped themselves around each other. First Jim was shaking and stuttering and Sam was cooing comfort, then Sam was shaking and stuttering and Jim was cooing comfort. _Mine, mine, mine._

Len had to gasp when he caught sight of Sam’s face; it had lost its habitual half-starved wariness and shone as open and sweet as a child’s. Jim heard him, head snapping around to chase the sound. His eyes grew narrow and sharp with warning. Cloaked in the feral darkness that usual haunted Sam, he deliberately turned his back on Len coiling himself more tightly around his brother. He murmured, “Samgee,” as Sam hissed back, “Jaytee.”

Len squinted and raised one arm protectively, then was forced to leave the room before their glowing brightness burned out his eyes.

 

When he returned three hours later and was not surprised to find Jim’s room empty. He called security without much conviction. And he was right; the two brothers had disappeared like smoke on a breeze.

Curiously, or maybe not so curiously, nobody seemed much surprised. 

Len thought the other cadets might have been upset, or annoyed, or he wasn’t sure, but some sort of emotion, not the casual shrug of what-did-you-expect. Captain Pike just sighed and shook his head, “I got one crisis out of them, that’s all I was hoping for.” The Admirals as a group bellowed for a bit, but Len could detect relief below all the hot air, certainly no effort was made to find the kids, and soon it was if the Kirk brothers had never been there at all. The only trace of their presence was the drift of rumor late at night, tall-tales like the ghost that supposedly haunted the Library and was ‘seen’ every year by three or four students strung out on caffeine and too little sleep.

Len had no idea who made _him_ the repository for the tall-tales but for the next few weeks and years, cadets and then serving ship crew seemed to make it their business to track him down and tell him their Sam-and-Jim story. Five years later even Nyota Uhura found her way to his lab late one night and told him about a fubar mission and being rescued from a Orion slaving party by smugglers who couldn’t possibly, possibly be Sam and Jim Kirk because that was ridiculous, and so what if Jim Kirk was the only other human she’d ever met who could decrypt Orion codes.

Then came the worst moment of his life, finding out his baby girl was trapped on a planet ravaged by famine. Len called in favors right and left to get himself on the relief mission, and ended up in the brig for most of the trip. He had no idea why, it wasn’t like he asked if they could go any faster that often. He was allowed to join the second wave of the relief forces after the first wave found a strangely quiescent planet.

Joanna flew into his arms and he collapsed to his knees in relief because she was _heavy_. Heavy and happy, no trace of frail, stick-thin, big-eyed creature he’d tortured himself with. Joanna was fine, bright-eyed and healthy and Len could have cried with happiness. Before he had time to recover himself, he was surrounded by people and it took him a moment to realize the mob was trying to _thank him_. They wanted to shake his hand, to touch his arm, to cry on his shoulder.

It took them a while to get the story straight and it turned out another ship had beaten them there. A trader who told them he’d been sent by Joanna’s Daddy to make sure she was okay. A trader who was called Samanjim.

“There were two of them,” said community elder, “but we never found out the second one’s name. How bad is that, they saved our lives and I don’t know both their names?”

Len made a strangled sound he belatedly hoped sounded encouraging. The elder kept speaking,

“They didn’t have a big ship, but it was fast. They dropped of some supplies to keep us going, then fetched us yet more. They would not even take our money. Dr McCoy I don’t know how you found them, but we are so very grateful.”

“Umphf,” said Len. 

He expected questions from the Captain later regarding breaking Starfleet confidentiality, but the man only said, apparently a propos of nothing, “I met the Kirks while they were at the Academy.”

“Oh?”

“So let’s just put this down to a random good Samaritan and leave it at that. Sound good?”

“Very good,” said Len feelingly.

The elder explained that the trader had said they couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, but had then left as soon as they picked up the Starfleet ship on the long-range scanners.

“That’s okay,” said Len, “I know what they meant.”

And any day now he expected to hear news of a lighting storm in space and to know that Sam and Jim had left to find another universe to call home (or terrorize, you know whichever sounded more fun at the time).


End file.
